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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23566702">Soar</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabid_bunny/pseuds/Rabid-Bunny'>Rabid-Bunny (rabid_bunny)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Overwatch (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, I'm a slut for moicy, Moicy, good shit, mmm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:20:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,651</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23566702</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabid_bunny/pseuds/Rabid-Bunny</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Moira knew how agonizing this was. She, too, had been under the scalpel of her own intense experimentation. The procedures were long and the pain had been nearly unbearable.</p><p>But look at where it got her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Moira O'Deorain/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Soar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Don’t move.”</p><p>Angela had heard Moira’s warning time and time again. She’d grown accustomed to it by now. What she hadn’t grown accustomed to was the repercussions. She gasped again from an acute shock of pain.</p><p>“I told you to keep still.” Moira glanced at the heart monitor beside the lab table where Angela laid. Still alive. Alright, everything was going fine then.</p><p>“Moira, I-I said hold on a moment!”</p><p>Another sharp jolt had Angela’s body jerking upward, her back arching and chest rising up towards the ceiling. The wires attached to her chest and maneuvered around her bra clinked against the metal table. Moira watched carefully, watched as she allowed another drip of a dark, maroon liquid to seep into Angela through a drip injection connected to her right arm. She knew how agonizing this was. She, too, had been under the scalpel of her own intense experimentation. The procedures were long and the pain had been nearly unbearable.</p><p>But look at where it got her. </p><p>All risks kept in mind, Moira retrieved the syringe full of that same strange liquid. She released the air from the needle point, tapping it a few times with a long, violet colored nail. Angela’s cheek was warm beneath her hand as she wiped a single tear away, “Don’t be afraid.” Moira trailed her hand down, swiping back a soft blonde hair to give way to Angela’s neck. “And I’ll say it once more. Keep still.” With acute precision, she released some of the maroon liquid into Angela’s neck. In turn, Angela began to choke.</p><p>Moira took a step back to observe. Though Angela seemed to be on the brink of a seizure, she was fighting it. She was fighting the darkness with everything she had. Moira smirked. Dr. Ziegler’s will was truly a thing of fascination. Dark, ghastly tendrils began to crawl beneath her skin from where Moira had injected her. They slowly grew, branching ff and wrapping around Angela’s throat.  Her coughing finally ceased as her body slammed still onto the table, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Moira glanced briefly at the heart monitor that was beeping off the charts next to her. The chirps from the monitor began to rush and pull together into a flat line. She put a hand up to her chin, watching with an intense furrow to her brow. Watching, Taking mental notes. Waiting. And watching.</p><p>Angela could see again. She could see faces. She squinted into the sunlight. They were the faces of her comrades, all standing before her again as they had once long ago. She smiled genuinely at them all, at their happiness, at their strength and their bravery. With a blink, the sky suddenly changed. Black, roaring clouds tumbled in above, encompassing her and those she cared for in darkness. She called out to see if they were alright but her voice was small and weak. All of a sudden, a blood curdling scream erupted from where she knew her team to be. Then another. And another. It was then that she realized she had her caduceus staff in hand. Without a moment to spare, she engaged her healing beam ahead, attaching it to someone yelling in the distant darkness. She ran forward when another scream broke out behind her. She turned she staff, letting out the beam. But it was too much. Each second that passed, another scream. And another. And another. Soon she was surrounded by wails of pain, cries of agony and death, sounds of flesh ripping and bones snapping. She tried and she tried, whipping around with her pistol and and her staff, but it was too much. Still clutching her caduceus, she dropped to her knees in the midst of it all and screamed of in the horror of it all. And then there was silence. As if the clouds had never existed, the darkness over the hidden battlefield lifted and it was all over as quickly as it began. Tears streaming down her face, Angela gagged. Every last one of her comrades, was dead. There was nothing left of them but blood and bone and the shame of what she could have done. Or of what she couldn’t have done. Slowly she stood to her feet. The white of her Valkyrie suit was tainted red. Her wings were now colored crimson, an angel in the midst of an unforgiving Hell. Suited up for battle and ready for the fight, Mercy was powerless.</p><p>Gripping her staff in both hands, Angela began to scream out again. But this time, it was in anger. Pure, festering and unadulterated anger. She began to feel something squeeze her throat, something hot and searing threatening to close her windpipe and shut her up. She opened her mouth and screamed even louder, lifting her staff up horizontally and bringing it down on one knee until it snapped completely in half. </p><p> </p><p>Moira’s eyes widened when Angela jolted upright on the table, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. Her face gave nothing away as she turned to jot down minimal notes.</p><p>“M-...moi...” Angela fought to find her voice again, still dazed from having passed out. “Moira!!” </p><p>Moira kept her eyes down on her notes. “Yes, Dr. Ziegler?”</p><p>“Are you completely out of your mind!?”</p><p>As to be expected, Angela was upset. But with finding new discoveries and exceeding levels of normality, sacrifices were necessary. Pain was necessary. Anger was necessary. Even if that meant being shunned and abhorred for the rest of your life. Or worse, left to spend the night in bed alone. Moira took note of how quickly Angela had regained consciousness. She was getting closer.</p><p>“I am far from out of my mind, I assure you,” Moira placed her notebook down, finally looking up at her patient. “I’ve only just begun to find it.” </p><p>“I beg to differ!” Angela rubbed her throat, voice filled with worry and eyes rimmed with red and still wet from her drug induced dream.</p><p>“Well I beg you not.” Moira’s voice was calm and caring as were the fingers, gentle and unlaced, that she laid on Angela’s cheek. “I beg for patience.” She stroked her cheek.</p><p>“Dr. O'Deorain...”</p><p>“I beg for understanding,” Moira’s thumb played on the corner of Angela’s lips. Angela sighed.</p><p>“Moira, don’t say it--”</p><p>Moira gently tugged at the bottom of Angela’s chin, moving closer to whisper softly in her ear. “I beg for Mercy.”</p><p>Despite her current state, Angela let out a chime of a chuckle, “You are horribly lame, did you know?”</p><p>“Oh I do,” Moira smiled, trailing her lips down from Angela’s ear to the marks left there on her neck. “But it works on you.” The dark tendrils had all but faded into what looked like regular bruising that’d vanish over time. Good.</p><p>Before getting swept up in the touch of Moira’s lips, the heat of her breath on her neck, the feel of her nails inching up the inside of her thighs, Angela had to say something. She knew that she’d agreed to this kind of experimentation, to this level of evolution but she didn't know how much more she could take. The pain from just the hour that had passed still haunted every nerve in her body. Though what haunted her even something fierce was the vision she’d had while unconscious. It wasn’t strength that she’d agreed to this for, no. But after being constantly surrounded by fallen comrades, always wishing she could have done just a little more... What more could she want than to be able to help those in need from further distances, from higher peaks? It was undeniable, Moira’s successes, talents and discoveries. And with her abilities mixed with her own (as barbarous as they might seem), Angela could only imagine the possibilities of a breakthrough in the medical industry! </p><p>However, this was far more than she’d bargained for and Moira knew that. Moira knew that very well. It was way before the first time the little angel had made her way into Moira’s bed for the first time that she became smitten by her beauty, her abilities. Her will. Her potential. That was it, Moira’s inevitable downfall. The thing that made her rise above everyone else and also fall into the pits of eternal misunderstanding. She could see the potential in everything and everyone. What else was she to do when this beautiful creature, this gold wrapped angel fluttered her wings and landed before her very eyes with a mind so intelligent and a power so exceedingly great? But her will. Angela’s will was what really attracted Moira. It bewildered her but it also fascinated her, that someone could be so willing to continuously risk their life for the well being of others. Over and over and over again. Angela would never give up, using the extent of her abilities to heal and heal and heal. But Moira knew beyond that and soon Angela would too. In order to truly heal, in order to truly protect, you must first and foremost have the power, ability and will to destroy.</p><p>She smiled against Angela’s neck. Since their first meeting, there was nothing she wanted to do more than twist that golden halo. She didn’t want to see Angela fall. She wanted something far greater than that for her. She wanted her to rise. Moira felt a familiar shudder through Angela when her right hand reached the top of her thigh. Kissing the bruises on her neck, she shushed Angela’s low whimpers as her other hand lifted the syringe. She grazed the needle up Angela’s spine, stopping it right between her shoulder blades. Right in between where her wings would be if she had them on. “Just a bit more, my little angel.” </p><p>Moira didn’t want to see Angela fall, no.</p><p>She wanted her to soar above the gods.</p>
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